


I Love You, I Love You, Good Night, Good Night

by misslucyjane



Category: Hello From the Magic Tavern (Podcast)
Genre: Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 03:02:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8873146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslucyjane/pseuds/misslucyjane
Summary: Arnie will do anything to get home, except wait.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlassRain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassRain/gifts).



> The request: "Arnie prompt: fixit fic for how Arnie has stopped missing his wife and daughter as much as he used to, like, something has made it better but he can't describe it on the podcast for plot reasons. Whether it's about the Dark Lord or the integrity of the timeline or anything else you come up with."
> 
> Thanks for letting me indulge in my headcanon for this podcast.
> 
> Thank you to my beta for making this better.

On his daily quest for the lunar sword, Arnie could easily pass the dungeon guards, Clax the skeleton, who let him go by with a wave, and of course the ooze, who would just call out, "Hi, Arnie!" when he made his way past them. But after them came the chamber of the hydra, and Arnie had no idea how to get past her without, you know, dying a horrible death via a dozen mouths.

Times like this, Arnie reflected as he crawled forward on his elbows, having a wizard like Usidore would be a big advantage _in theory_ \-- but in reality, there was no way a small horse with a top hat and two buttholes would help him defeat a hydra.

Arnie flicked a match against his thumb to get his bearings. Much like the previous passageway, it was damp, moss-covered, and narrow, and there was nothing to see beyond the faint circle of light provided by the match.

He said to no one in his best Bruce Willis, "Come to the coast, we'll have a few laughs..."

No one found this funny.

"Earth people are loving it," Arnie muttered and blew out the match, and then pulled himself forward a little more. 

Sometimes things in Foon had a parallel to Earth stuff, but even when they did there was only a small chance the parallel would be helpful in any way. For instance, he knew there was a hydra in the Disney cartoon Hercules, but he couldn't remember how Hercules defeated it; and even if he could remember, he didn't know if he could imitate wahat Hercules had done to defeat this particular hydra, since Hercules was part god (and a cartoon character) and he was just Arnie Niekamp, a podcaster from Chicago.

At least he knew what to expect from that time Usidore turned himself into one: an enormous, multi-headed, big-clawed creature that glowed in the dark and spoke from each head in unison. 

Maybe he could talk the it into letting him pass..? He talked for a living, after all, or he had back in Chicago. 

He kind of wished he could turn around and go back to the Vermillion Minotaur. He'd been stopped at this level so many times before, since he had no way to move forward without, again, that horrible death thing happening -- but with Winter Soltice approaching again, the homesickness was worse than ever, and the thought of missing another Christmas with his baby and Sarah was just too much. 

 The passage seemed to close in around him as Arnie pulled and struggled and pushed forward with his toes -- when all at once the passageway opened wide and he tumbled into a large chamber.

The hydra — Hale, according to Chunt — jerked up her many heads from a meal and hissed at Arnie. The shape at her clawed feet was small and had been wearing armor -- a dwarf knight, maybe. 

Arnie scrambled to his feet, feeling very vulnerable in his leathers. If a knight in proper armor couldn't't defeat her, what hope did he have? "H-hi, there."

The hydra hissed again, some of her heads arching up, some going low like a predator preparing to strike. Her claws picked at the bone-strewn floor. 

"My name's Arnie. Maybe you've heard of me, from the Ooze?"

Some of the hydra's heads looked at him skeptically.

"I fell through a dimensional portal a while back, and now I'm in Foon and I do a podcast, and I interview the interesting people I meet, and I thought maybe you'd like to be on my podcast?"

The hydra looked even more confused. "What," she said in a snake-like, echoing sort of voice, "is a podcast?"

"It's when people have a conversation and it's recorded," Arnie said. "I'd ask you questions and you answer them. Like, what's it like to be a hydra? What's it like to live in a dungeon on a steady diet of knights?"

The hydra thrust several of her heads as close to Arnie as she could get, and sniffed him with her many snouts. A few tongues flicked out. "Are you a knight?"

"Me? No! No, no, no. Just a humble podcaster, improv actor, and occasional quester."

"Quester," said the hydra, lifting several heads to look into Arnie's eyes. "What is your quest?"

Armor blurted out, "I seek the Grail!" and clapped his hands over his mouth. 

She reared back her heads, tilting a few like a puzzled dog.

"Sorry, sorry," Arnie said, lowering his hands, "habit, it's Earth stuff, never mind. I seek the lunar sword." He swallowed hard.

The hydra lifted all of her heads to their full heights and looked down at him. "You are a terrible knight," she decided, and lunged all of her heads at once.

Armor yelped and threw up his arms to cover his face. Maybe it would be a fast death -- maybe the hydra would bite him in the jugular first instead of swallowing him whole -- maybe someone would somehow, someday, get a message to Sarah -- 

Nothing happened. The hydra's roar cut off mid-growl.

“Ah,” said the low voice of an ancient man, “I remembered that would work.”

Armor peeked between his arms. The hydra was frozen in place, three of her heads lunging in at his throat, mouths agape, to make herself a meal of fresh Niekamp. Her other heads were coming in low, as if to disable him with bites above the knee and into his sides.

Behind the unmoving hydra stood a bearded man in a yellow robe — a new face to Arnie, but strangely familiar at the same time. “Hello,” the man said. 

“Hello,” Arnie replied in a cautious tone. 

“You’re welcome,” the man said and gave one of the hydra’s strong necks a friendly pat. He turned away from Arnie, and started down the tunnel behind the hydra, which was lit by torches on both sides of the wall. The flames didn't flicker, and the shadow of the hydra didn't change as the man walked between the hydra and the light.

“Thank you?” Arnie said as he climbed out from between the many heads to catch up with the man in yellow. 

“I knew you were going to say that.” The man’s tone was serene, his pace even, as he walked through the tunnel beyond the hydra's chamber, untroubled by the many piles of bones.

"Hey!" Arnie said. "Wait a second. Who are you? How did you know I'd need help?"

The man turned and looked at him. "I am Can the Yellow, Master of Space and Time. My name is very long at this point so I would rather not iterate it further, as this spell has a limited lifespan. And I knew you'd need help because I remember it happening before."

Arnie stared at him. He breathed, "Are you here to help me get the lunar sword?"

"Oh, no," said Can the Wizard. He resumed walking.

###

A lot of things happened in Foon that were confusing or nonsensical, at least to Arnie. He would have to fight the hydra eventually, so just walking away with the monster frozen seemed liked a wasted opportunity.

Still, he trotted alongside Can the Wizard as they hiked the sloping tunnel back to the top level of the dungeon. "How could you remember it happening before?"

"I remember things," Can said mildly. "Usually when it's most dramatic that I remember them. I remember you will have acquire the lunar sword, and I remember you will did fought the Dark Lord." He stopped, sighed, and said, "Then it gets blurry again."

"You're a time traveller?"

"I am the master of Time and Space." He stopped again. "Or I am its plaything. Sometimes it feels like one rather than the other. I have lived many lifetimes, so many I no longer remember the first one."

"That must be rough," said Arnie with sympathy. "So you did this. You stopped time to rescue me."

"Yes. Today is not the day for you to die."

"Or for me to get the lunar sword."

"All in good time." He stopped and grinned at Arnie. "I made a joke."

"Uh, yeah."

"There is no such thing as 'good' time. That's why it's funny."

"Okay," Arnie said slowly.

Bu now they'd reached the top level of the dungeon, where Clax the Skeleton was waiting for the next adventurer. "Hey, Clax," Arnie said, but of course he was still frozen like the rest of the dungeon, and didn't answer. "Hey, Can the Wizard, can I ask you a question?"

"You can. Perhaps you will, when you've worked up enough courage."

"I think I have enough courage to ask you a question," Arnie began.

"But do you have enough courage to hear the answer?" said Can and pushed on the dungeon's door to get it open. 

"If you know my future, when will I get the lunar sword?"

Can boosted himself up out of the dungeon, grunting, and Arnie grabbed hold of his feet and pushed him up. "Thank you," Can said and leaned down to offer his hand to Arnie to help him up. "I don't know. I'll likely remember when it's most dramatic."

There was a bit of pulling and groaning before Arnie was clear of the dungeon. He had to stop and catch his breath before answering, "That's inconvenient."

"Life is terribly inconvenient," Can observed as they walked down the road from the dungeon toward Hogsface. "So messy and random. So many children."

"I like children," Arnie said. "But that's beside the point. I'm trying to get the lunar sword because I think it will help Usidore defeat the Dark Lord, and I think when he's defeated the Dark Lord I'll be able to go home."

"Do you want to go home?"

"Of course I do!" Arnie exclaimed. "I've got a wife and daughter waiting for me! My wife probably thinks I'm dead."

"If she thinks you're dead, why go back?"

"Because I'm not dead! What a stupid question!" Arnie stopped and put his face in his hands. "I'm sorry. Sorry. I'm so sorry. I want to go home and everything I try just _fails_. We could get the lunar sword today and quest to defeat the Dark Lord tomorrow, and you could help me but you _won't_ and I don't understand _why_."

Can stood waiting patiently, both hands resting on the top of his staff. "The gods help those who help themselves," he said in his mild way, and resumed walking.

Arnie stared after Can until he was quite a long way down the road, and then sighed, hitched his sword behind his back, and followed him.

###

When they reached Hogsface, the time spell was still in place. The blacksmith was mid-pound on his anvil, a housewife was tossing dirty water out of a front door; a bard was strumming her lute, mouth open without a sound. 

"We could have finished the dungeon in this time," Arnie said, trying not to sound upset. "It would have been easy, with everyone frozen like this."

"Mm," said Can. "No matter what you think, you don't want an easy quest."

"Why not? If I got the lunar sword--"

Can stopped and looked at him. "Arnold Niekamp—"

"It's Arnie," Arnie muttered.

"An easy quest will not help you prepare to face the Dark Lord. You'll get the lunar sword when you're ready. You have many roads to travel and many rivers to cross before you are."

"Is that a prophecy?"

Can laughed. "Oh, no, it's just an observation. I've seen you fail and I've seen you succeed, and the times you succeed are far worse than the times you've failed."

"But I just want to go home," Arnie whispered. "My daughter is going to grow up without me."

"Mm," said Can. "Ah, here we are." He opened the door to the Vermillion Minotaur. Like outside, everyone was stopped in their tracks — Blemish laying a plate on a table, the unwed mothers, knitting and gossiping; patrons drinking from mead from cups or putting a rooster's foot in their mouths. Chunt and Usidore were at their usual table, with Arnie's laptop between them so they could check their email before they played another session of Offices and Bosses.

It was a normal day in the Magic Tavern.

Arnie sighed. He loved the Minotaur, he did, and he loved the friends that he'd made and the people he'd met — but he wanted to go home. He wanted _home_.

"I don't care for children," Can said. "Which is problematic when one is a schoolmaster. But I understand that loving children, or at least one's own child, is a thing people do."

"I love her very much," Arnie said. "I used to sing it to her every night, too." He sang the little lullaby he'd made up for her, "I love you, I love you, good night, good night--"

"Arnold," said Can, "what is a sacrifice?"

"It's giving up something in exchange for something else."

Can corrected gently, "It's giving up something precious in exchange for something better. Right now, you've been asked to make a sacrifice: staying in Foon to defeat the Dark Lord, who would conquer every reality given the chance. Isn't missing your daughter's childhood worth making sure she has a future?"

"I," Arnie began, when movement caught his eye — someone slinking from one shadowy corner to another, trying to keep out of sight. Arnie whispered, "Can, is there anyone who wouldn't be affected by your spell?"

"Hmm," said Can. "Possibly. I don't remember. If there is, it's a very dangerous person with powerful magic."

"You are less helpful than you originally appeared," Arnie said, and launched himself into the shadowy corner.

The man he caught gave a shout as Arnie caught him around his knees, and they both tumbled to the floor. "Who are you?" Arnie demanded. "Why are you following me and Can the Wizard?"

"It's me, Dr. Ward," the man said. He looked as ordinary as he had the last time they met, so ordinary that when Arnie tried to remember him he drew a complete blank about his face, his clothes, even the color of his eyes. "I'm not following you. I'm here for your daily therapy session."

"Therapy," Arnie said as he crouched back on his heels.

"You're in Bellaroth Hospital," Dr. Ward said. "Remember?"

"I remember you," Arnie said. "I remember you're a minion of the Dark Lord and you're trying to get me to tell you how to travel between dimensions. You want to use me to help the Dark Lord!"

"Where did you go earlier today with Dr. Wilson?"

Arnie blinked at him. "What?"

"You went out with Dr. Wilson. Where did you go?"

"We," Arnie began and looked at Can, who was sitting at the table with Usidore and Chunt, his hands resting on the top of his staff. "I went on a quest for the lunar sword and he brought me back."

"You ran away," Dr. Ward said. "Dr. Wilson found you and brought you back to the hospital."

Arnie whirled to look at Can. Can smiled at him, looking frail and harmless, and not at all like a hospital orderly — or a psychiatrist, for that matter. "Stop it," he said. "You're a minion of the Dark Lord and I'm not going to listen to you."

"I'm the only one who can send you home," Dr. Ward said, and his voice did that strange, double-layered thing that made Arnie feel like he was flipping between two worlds. He could almost see Earth, the beige walls of a hospital filled with the mentally ill and uniformed orderlies — he could hear the soothing piano — he could even taste the antiseptic in the air.

"That's it," murmured Dr. Ward, "come back to reality, Arnold. Your wife and daughter miss you so much."

But he could also see Usidore the Blue -- Master of Light and Shadow, etc., etc. -- and Chunt the King of the Badgers, a badger-shaped shapeshifter, and he could see Can the Yellow, the unfamiliar wizard with the familiar face. He could smell the firewood and sawdust of the Vermilion Minotaur, and if everything weren't frozen he was sure he could hear the murmur of voices, the occasional singing, and the crackling of the fire.

"Come back to us, Arnold," said Dr. Ward. "Come to the Dark Lord."

"What?"

Dr. Ward smiled at him. "Come back to the ward."

Arnold shook his head violently. "Tell me one thing. One thing, and I'll believe you."

"Of course, Arnold."

"What," Arnie said, "is the name of my daughter?"

"Why, it's—" Dr. Ward cut his eyes nervously to Can the Wizard. "It's — Anthea."

"No."

"Oh, it's Rosalind. Of course."

"No," said Arnie.

"How silly of me, it's Brunhilde."

"It's none of those," Arnie said and gave Dr. Ward a shake by his lab coat. "If you knew Sarah, you'd know my daughter's name."

"Arnie," said Can, "I believe I can be of assistance." He got up from the table and came to Arnie, and leaned in to whisper into his ear.

One little word. One very real, very beloved, little word.

Arnie looked at him, stunned. "How did you know that?"

"I remember," said Can. He patted Arnie's shoulder, and then pointed his staff at Dr. Ward. "It's time for you to go," he said, and with a flash of yellow light, Dr. Ward was gone.

"Did you — did you kill him?"

"Oh, no," said Can. "Merely sent him back to his master. I'm sure he'll be back again, but you'll always find a way to defeat him."

"Do you remember that?" Arnie said, starting to smile.

"No. I just know." He moved back to the table again, and as he did waved his hand and said something in wizard-speak.

As he did so, time unstopped in the Minotaur. The fire resumed crackling, patrons resumed speaking and drinking; Arnie could hear sounds of cooking from the kitchen and the clicking of needles from the unwed mothers.

Back to normal.

"Can!" exclaimed Usidore. "When did you get here?"

"Oh," said Can, "I've always been here. May I join you in a game of Offices and Bosses?"

"Yes, of course," said Usidore, and gestured for Arnie to join them. "I," he announced, "have been reading the Twitter!"

Arnie smiled, and took off his sword so he could sit at the table with his friends. "Yeah? Anything good in the news today?"

"There is a game," said Usidore, "where you replace one word in a song title! And make it worse!"

"That sounds like Twitter," said Arnie and looked at Can. Can smiled back, mild, and accepted the dice Chunt gave him to play.

 _I won't go home soon,_ Arnie thought. _But if it means the Dark Lord won't get there either, I guess…I guess it's okay to wait._

The End


End file.
